Friday, December 21, 2012

During a recent radio interview, you suggested arming and
training school officials so they could respond in the event of a school
shooting.

Unfortunately, your idea is misguided on two levels: it would
not increase school safety and it conflicts with the very essence of why we
teach.

Police officers have received countless hours of training
and must constantly retrain to be recertified. Educators don’t have the training
or the time for training. Our time would be better spent attending professional
development to ensure we meet the mental and emotional needs of all of our
students so they don’t become violent offenders.Lacking the training, it would be far too
easy for an angry student to wrestle a gun from a school official. As an
educator, I don’t understand the intricacies associated with confronting an
intruder. I don’t comprehend the dangers of crossfire or when deadly force
should be used.

Looking at research about the availability of guns in homes for self-defense, we know that they are significantly more likely to be use for
unintended purposes. I don’t want to read about an educator who erroneously
shoots an unarmed, but threatening, student. We’ve all heard of suicide by cop,
do we want this replaced by suicide by principal? (Teen suicide is the 3rd leading cause of adolescent death and for each completed suicide 25 are completed, we cannot make suicide 'easier'.)GovernNor do I want to read about an administrator
who turns the gun on him/herself, a co-worker, or god-forbid a classroom of
students.

Even if principals are willingly trained and armed, many
recent mass shooters have been armed to the tilt with automatic, high-powered
weapons and/or protective gear. Arming an administrator would simply make him/her
the first target of a focused intruder leading to more gunfire and more death.

To the second issue, carrying a
weapon in school conflicts with why I chose to teach. I entered teaching
because I wanted to matter. Everything I do matters. I expand knowledge. But
before teaching the mind, I must reach hearts and souls. I try to make the
world a better place.

Carrying a firearm directly conflicts with why I teach.

Governor McDonnell, your suggestion of arming educators is
defeatist.Instead, we must proactively
prevent these events through better mental health solutions—not to mention gun
training and regulation.

Governor, your reaction was based on an unfortunate
stimulus. Your suggestion reeks of desperation and helplessness.Instead, we must consciously respond based on
our values.We must commit ourselves to
improving our ability to provide the necessary mental and social services to
our students. Instead of creating maximum-security schools, let’s make schools
places of peace, harmony, thinking, and happiness.

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Two years ago, when I first became an
assistant principal, I instituted positive referrals, an idea that I
unabashedly admit to stealing from Todd Whitaker and others. The premise behind
the referrals is simple, I asked teachers to recommend any student who
demonstrated Courage, Character, or Citizenship, which are the three principles
on our school’s shield.

Every other Thursday night, I bake some
brownies in preparation for calling the students who received the positive
referrals to my office. When beckoned to my office, I’m sure the students’
hearts race, trying to figure out what they could have done or witnessed. Upon
entering my office, I explain to the student that he/she has received a
positive referral for demonstrating courage, character or citizenship.
Sometimes, I ask the student to identify what they did to receive the positive
referral or which teacher “referred” them. Overwhelmed and confused, many
students ask me to repeat what a positive referral is. Others have no clue what
they’ve done to deserve a referral.

After discussing the positive referral, I use
the opportunity for some one-on-one conversation and offer the student a
brownie. (Side note: this round of positive referrals, 3 males turned down the
brownies, but all the females did
accept one. In the future, I’ll be sure to have some fresh fruit.) Finally, I
tell the student that I’d like to call their parent(s) to express my gratitude.
Several students have asked me not to call
because they’d rather share the referral with them. Others, including one
student, who is a frequent flyer to office for disciplinary reasons, have asked
me to prank their parents.

“Hi, Ms. Thompson. This is Reed Gillespie.
I’m an assistant principal at Kettle Run and I have John in the office with
me.”

[Silent Pause]

“I’d like to put you on speaker phone so John
can explain what he did.” (further delaying the inevitable)

“Mom. I got a referral.”

“What for this time?”

“Well I don’t know how to say it.”

“John! What did you do?!”

“It’s a positive referral. I told Mr.
Gillespie about a girl who posted some suicidal stuff on Facebook”

As John’s mom fights back the tears, “I’m so
proud of you.” She continued, “I know you’re such a good kid with such a big
heart…”

My relationship with John and the students
who have received positive referrals have improved dramatically. I’ve had
students shed tears of joy. Others use the opportunity to express their
gratitude towards the teacher who “referred” them. An unintended consequence—and
I hope I’m not jinxing John—but he’s yet to receive a “real” referral since
then.

After getting over the initial shock of
receiving a phone call from an assistant principal, they express their
gratitude and appreciation. “It’s so nice to hear from a school for something
positive.” “That’s great that you take the time to recognize students for their
good deeds.” “She’s a wonderful person and I’m so glad that the school
recognizes this.”

Recently, I’ve used the opportunity to
solicit feedback from the parents on how we an improve Kettle Run High School.

Finally, I know the referrals positively
impact the relationship between the teacher who wrote the referral and the
receiving student. Teachers tell me that the students enter class the next day,
thanking the teacher and sharing how his/her parents received the news.

The simple act of writing a positive referral
improves teacher-student, teacher-parent, student-parent, and parent-school
relationships. A simple investment with great pay-offs.

Sunday, December 9, 2012

During my early years of teaching, I had a student (I’ll
call him John) who often put his head down in my class. I had cajoled and
spoken to him too many times to count, when one day as soon as class began he
began to sleep before the tardy bell even rang. The nerve! I went over to his
desk, tapped him on the shoulder and flatly stated, “You need to stay awake.” I turned my attention to beginning class.

As the students worked on their bell ringer, I began to take
attendance. By the time I had gotten to John’s name, he was already dozing off.
How was that possible? I had spoken to him less than three minutes ago.

As a relatively novice teacher, I was furious. I took it
personally. I walked over to his desk, tapped him on the shoulder. No response.
I leaned down to him and whispered, “You have work to do.” Again to no avail.
My frustration mounted. Many of his classmates were now watching. As a young
teacher, I felt I had to prove myself. I couldn’t let a fifteen-year-old show
me up.

I knocked—maybe even pounded—hard on his desk.

He shot up! In one fluid motion, he pushed his books off his
desk and shouted “Leave me the **** alone you ****!”

Any eyes that weren’t on us before, now surely were. I was
stunned. Silence came over the room.

I stood speechless as he stormed out and
slammed the door.

I’m sure I stumbled over my next words as I tried to regain
my composure and the class. I was furious that a student had just cussed me
out, but I knew I couldn’t let my emotions get the better of me (although in
hindsight, they already had).

I managed to teach the next portion of the lesson before I
stepped into the hall to confront John. John sat on the floor, curled into a
cocoon. Stunned, I searched for words, “John…”

He looked up, tears rolled down his face. I stood
speechless. How could he go from this maniac who just cussed me out to a timid,
fear-ridden young boy?

Changing tactics, I bent next to him. “What’s going on?”

“Mr. G. I’m sorry. I’ve had a horrible night. I shouldn’t
have cussed.”

I paused. Again, unsure of what to say.

John opened up, “Last night my mom’s boyfriend was over.
They started arguing. My younger brother and sister were scared. The argument
grew worse and worse.”

He continued, “He started beating her. Right in front of us! We're in
the kitchen and they were in the living room. I tried to pretend not to be
scared. But my mom was crying. My brother and my sister were crying. I didn’t
know what to do. I just held my brother and sister. I held them tight. I took
them to my room.”

“My mom’s boyfriend, he’s such an ***. He's drinking.
My mom’s crying. Everyone except him is crying. I’ve talked to her about him,
but she says they love each other.”

I stammered, “I’m sorry.”

“He yelled at her all night. He beat her up good. My sister
and I never fell asleep. All three of us cuddled up in one bed for the entire
night. My mom didn’t get up in the morning to send us off to school. I was
scared to check on her when I left. I did though. She got beat up good.”

Immediately I experienced an epiphany. If only I had started
off the class by asking John, “Everything alright?”

The entire confrontation would
have been avoided, but more importantly John would have known that I was there
for him.

Instead of my unwieldy attempt to demonstrate power, I
needed to open up my heart and soul.

I had succumbed to thoughts of revenge, when my thoughts
should have been of compassion and mercy.

As teachers, before we reach our students minds, we must
reach their hearts and souls.

Epilogue

John, the guidance counselor and I spent the remainder of
the period talking while the teacher who passed me in the hall covered my
class.

Social services and the police were contacted.

Over the remainder of the year, John and I had an uneasy
relationship. If I saw his name on the absentee list, I worried. I’d check with
the attendance office and if they knew nothing, I’d call home.

In class, I tried to comfort John; to be there for him. He
never opened up, and I never pursued/pushed
the issue. I told him many times that I was always there for him and would talk
whenever and wherever. He never took me up on the offer.

Sadly, I don’t know what happened to John and his family.
During the summer, they moved to another county.

I doubt I positively impacted John’s life, but John forever
changed my approach to teaching and to life. To this day, I wish it were the
other way around.

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Watching the BBC America version of Kitchen Nightmares one
morning, I asked myself, “Why do I watch this show?”

I don’t watch a lot of television and I don’t like most
reality shows, but for some reason I’m drawn to Kitchen Nightmares.

Then it hit me; Gordon Ramsay is in essence a teacher with
high expectations. He expects and accepts nothing but the best from everyone.

After a brief conversation with the restaurateurs, Ramsay
sits down for a meal—one that he will undoubtedly rip to pieces. This initial
meal serves as a pre-assessment, enabling him to accurately assess the
kitchen’s strengths and weaknesses.

After eating, Ramsay interviews the staff, soliciting
feedback on the restaurant’s strengths and weaknesses. Their frankness and
honesty often brings the owners to tears, but the information gleaned from the
process enables Ramsay to further pinpoint what he needs to teach.

Most every episode includes a kitchen inspection that
invariably reveals a disgusting and unsatisfactory kitchen. He emphasizes the
importance of organization and cleanliness; much like a teacher who teaches, emphasizes and models organization.

Within the first 30 minutes of the show, Ramsay has accurately
assessed the wait staff, the cooking, the management and the infrastructure. As
a teacher, he can’t just go to each restaurant with a uniform blueprint for
success. Each restaurant is unique. Instead, Ramsay differentiates based on each restaurant’s needs. Like a teacher, he must meet the restaurant where they are and progress from there.

After the initial assessment, Ramsay tailors his instruction
to meet the restaurant’s needs. Often, one of the first things he does is
simplify the menu. Much like teachers who narrow their instruction to ensure
mastery of key material (depth over breadth), Ramsay takes a multiple page menu
and whittles it down to one page to ensure the kitchen can get each meal
perfect.

Like great teachers, Ramsay insists on the restaurant’s
best. He implores chefs not to serve anything that does not meet minimum
standards. When a chef says, “The rest of the meals [for a table] were being
sent out. We needed to send it out too.” Ramsay goes off.

His message: only serve your best, accept nothing less. Do
your best or don’t do it at all.Redo
the meal until you get it right.

This message resonates with teachers. We cannot accept
anything but our students’ best efforts. If we focus only on performance, that
is getting the meal/assignment done, the restaurant or teacher is cheating its
customers or students.On the other
hand, restaurants and teachers with a mastery orientation constantly seek to
improve their competence. Restaurants and classrooms with a mastery orientation
will constantly improve because people will believe they have control over
their learning.

Ramsay maintains high standards and
strives for perfection. As educators, we must do the same.

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About Me

I'm an associate principal at Monticello High School in Charlottesville, Virginia. Before moving to Charlottesville, I was an assistant principal at Kettle Run
High School in Nokesville, VA and before that I
taught world history, freshman seminar, individual reading and academic
coaching at Fauquier High School. I also coached girls basketball and
boys lacrosse while at FHS. Additionally, I taught and coached for 6
years at Rappahannock County High School. I also spent 1 year at Cedars
Academy in Bridgeville, Delaware.

I'm a co-moderator of #vachat, a weekly Twitter conversation for
Virginia (and non-Viriginians too) educators. We chat every Monday at 8
ET.

Most importantly, I'm a father and grandfather I have 4
wonderful children and a couple of grandchildren. In my free time, I enjoy outdoor activities, cooking,
reading, sports, and, of course, spending time with family.